


Downy Soft, Granite Strong (Are the Wings that Keep Me High)

by orphan_account



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Angels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, religious concepts butchered in blasphemous ways, why are they both such martyrs?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 23:37:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4038982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Guardian Akas isn’t sure when he fell in love with his charge. Some days, he thinks it started as soon as he received the assignment: the boy no one wanted. At his most sentimental, he thinks it’s the day he realized that he’d started calling himself “Foggy”—Matt’s nickname for him—in his own head, his tongue forgetting the shape of his given name almost entirely.</p><p>The obvious choice would be the day of the accident, the day that left Matt blind and Foggy with a set of damaged wings that made him some sort of outcast shade—no longer entirely celestial, but not exactly earthly either. But maybe it was when Matt’s father died. Or the day Stick left. It might have been the day that Foggy realized he’d broken every single one of the Guard’s rules, had failed utterly in upholding the vow he’d made to the Guard Council upon receiving his wings.</p><p>So the day Foggy cuts off his deformed, useless wings and gives up his place in the heavens doesn’t really feel as damning as it should.  Maybe the fact that he’s been in love with the cursed boy with the damned soul all along has something to do with it.</p><p>Or: the one where Foggy is Matt’s guardian angel, and that goes about as well as any plan in Matt Murdock’s life goes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Downy Soft, Granite Strong (Are the Wings that Keep Me High)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I'll try to keep this quick, but there's lots to cover here.
> 
> 1\. The names: Foggy's "real" name in this is Akas, which according to several sources located by google, means "timeless" in Punjabi (I couldn't resist). I know giving a character in fanfiction a different name than they have in the source material makes things seem unnecessarily complicated, but I couldn't figure out a way to make it seem legit that his name was Foggy or explain why the angels called him Foggy without going into some convoluted explanation that had no value to the story. I'm sorry if that makes this a no-go for any of you; I'll just have to catch you on the next idea.
> 
> 2\. The premise for this is a combination of a lot of bastardized ideas from several different traditions and some shit I just made the fuck up. If you practice any of the faiths I stole from, or believe any of the concepts presented here, and you notice that I've played with the ideas, they're not "wrong" they were intentionally changed to suit my purposes. if any of you are curious about the choices I made here, I'd be more than happy to chat endlessly with you about them in the comments to avoid detailing them here for those uninterested.
> 
> 3\. This is for the wing fic square on my trope bingo card.
> 
> 4\. I have no idea what kind of timeline we're looking at for finishing this thing, but I will update as frequently as possible. And, despite the fact that I'm so enamored with this story I will continue to plug away at it no matter what, feedback will definitely go a long way in motivating me to plug a little faster.
> 
> 5\. As far as warnings/tags go, I have the barest of bones plotted out for the entirety of this monster, but I haven't fleshed out all of the details yet. I will update the tags as more things become applicable, and if there's anything that's potentially triggering I will post those in the notes for the chapter where they appear, so please take care of yourself and read the notes to check for warnings if you think you may be triggered by something. (And if you're triggered by something I didn't warn for, please let me know so I can correct the oversight)
> 
> 6\. Rajpal is an original character, and since he's the only one I can claim, please do not use him without permission
> 
> I think that about does it. Enjoy the craziness!

The door to the tiny, immaculate office shut with barely a click; it felt really loud despite the excellent craftsmanship that kept it nearly soundless.  Akas had never been in his commanding officer’s office, and looked around excitedly, although there wasn’t a whole lot to hold his interest.  It was a plain office—a desk, a couple of chairs, bland walls, stacks of paper that looked both important and utterly unremarkable at the same time.  The only personal touch in the entire room was the framed medal of valor, and that was wedged between the wall and the printer, so.  Akas was both fascinated and entirely out of his depth; he didn’t know what to do with himself and he was sure it showed.  The Head of the Guard never dealt with recruits directly, and while Akas had managed to graduate and receive his wings, he was still new enough that this meeting felt out of place and kind of ominous.

“Sit, Guardian Akas.”  The command came from the intimidating figure of Rajpal, Head of the Guard, seated behind his desk.   There was strength in the voice, but also enough warmth to _almost_ tip the scales in favor of the statement being a request.  Almost. 

Rajpal probably didn’t manage much _requesting,_ his sheer presence giving everything he said a weight that must make it feel heavy enough to crush if not obeyed.  The Head of the Guard was the largest guardian Akas had ever seen, at least a foot and a half taller than Akas himself and broad enough that Akas suspected he might have to turn sideways to make it through doorways.  His face was handsome in its own way, but it was hard—all sharp angles and strong lines—no softness at all.  But it was his wings that _really_ commanded the attention.  One of Rajpal’s assignments had gone very, very south, and he’d walked away with one wing that wouldn’t quite fold all the way against his back and another that was missing a patch of feathers permanently in addition to the medal of valor.  He’d heard some guardians say the disfigured wings were ugly, but Akas had always thought they made Rajpal look sort of regal and dignified.

Grateful for the direction, Akas shuffled into the only seat in the office other than the one Rajpal was currently in.  He tried to figure out how to accommodate his newly-grown wings while seated, something they never bothered to cover in the academy, and they fluttered awkwardly with his indecision.  Nerves had all of his appendages feeling clumsy and unwieldy, but not being adjusted to the feel of his wings and the way they worked made them the worst culprits.  He smiled sheepishly up at Rajpal when he finally got them situated, tucked over the back of the chair in a way that didn’t stretch the joints too uncomfortably.  “Thank you, Sir.”  He was pretty sure such an accomplished guardian couldn’t possibly think of him as anything other than entirely incompetent after that little show, but he’d always handled embarrassment by just barreling through it.

The corner of Rajpal’s mouth twitched slightly, but he made no comment on Akas’ struggle with his wings.  He also made no attempt to ease Akas’ anxiety, jumping right into questioning him.  “Tell me, how are you finding life now that you have finished your time in the academy?”

Akas opened his mouth to answer instinctively, and then snapped it shut around his first response.  The question seemed benign enough, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was an interrogation rather than a friendly chat.  In that context, blurting “Vishnu’s cock! What the fuck am I supposed to do with myself with no classes and no exams to study for?” was probably not the smartest move.  After cycling through several alternate responses that seemed equally as ill-fitting, he finally settled on, “less structured.”  It felt safe enough, especially when he didn’t know what Rajpal was driving at here.

Rajpal’s lips quirked into a knowing smirk.  “Boring?” he questioned in mock-polite curiosity.

Feeling caught out, Akas froze in his seat.  “Ah…”  He didn’t know if he was being baited or not, and while his instinct was to take advantage of the fact that Rajpal seemed to be understanding and commiserating, he absolutely did not want to walk into a trap here.  Getting on the Head of the Guard’s shitlist would likely mean finding himself at the end of the list of guardians waiting for an assignment and it would be an _eternity_ before he got his first charge.

Looking like he knew exactly what kind of internal debate Akas was having with himself, Rajpal’s smirk widened into a grin.  Again, he did nothing to alleviate that indecision, seeming to enjoy the way Akas squirmed.  He kept up his line of questioning, sounding entirely unruffled by the proceedings.  “Your instructors told me that you excelled in all your studies, but Western Culture seemed to be an area of particular skill.”

Ducking his head, Akas shrugged, shrugging off the praise.  “I enjoyed it.”  It was true he’d graduated from the academy at the top of his class, with the highest scores in all of the courses related to the Western Culture of the Earthly Realm, but he didn’t like to talk about it.  He’d known too many guardians that boasted incessantly about their own accomplishments, while simultaneously disparaging the success of others, to ever really enjoy bragging.  He thought it would probably be in poor taste in this situation anyway, and was grateful for the natural aversion of the trait.

Rajpal nodded in easy agreement.  “That often makes the difference.”

“Yes.”  Akas smiled, glad his superior officer understood what he’d been trying to say.  Many of his classmates, and even some of his teachers, couldn’t really comprehend how Akas had relished the opportunity to soak up knowledge that they deemed largely unnecessary.  So much of the curriculum at the academy had been focused on the physical tools and skills a guardian needed to protect their charge and keep them clean; only a handful of guardians seemed to share Akas’ enthusiasm for acquiring the background knowledge required to really get into the mind of a charge.

Rajpal’s expression turned contemplative.  “Do you think your high marks in Dark Auras were the result of similar interests?”

Akas’ gaze skittered uncomfortably away from Rajpal’s.  “Maybe.”  His interest and ability in such a controversial subject had been just one more thing that had made Akas an outcast among his peers and he was reluctant to talk very openly about it.  Especially to his superior, someone who would likely be involved in making decisions about his future; he didn’t want to give Rajpal any reason to doubt him or delay his transition into active guardian.  Rajpal’s continued silence meant he needed to offer more than that though.  His attention briefly flitted back up to Rajpal’s face to check his expression before looking away again.  Finding nothing that made him even more apprehensive, he attempted to forge ahead.  “I think it’s more that I just…”  He trailed off there, reluctant to express what so many others had criticized him for to a guardian he respected so completely.

Rajpal leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his desk and steepling his fingers.  “Just, what, Guardian Akas?”  His tone was firm, guaranteeing no escape from this grilling, but also understanding of Akas’ timidity.

Hesitantly, Akas looked up at Rajpal through his eyelashes.  Rajpal wasn’t of noble birth, he wasn’t one of those guardians who rose through the ranks because of their family name.  He’d been in the field, he’d had assignments go poorly before.  Unbidden, Akas’ attention strayed to the patch of missing feathers on Rajpal’s left wing.  Akas took the chance that Rajpal would be able to, if not understand, at least not judge his feelings on the matter too harshly.  “I’m not afraid of it?”

Rajpal raised an eyebrow.  That obviously was not what he’d been expecting.  His surprise faded away as if it had never been there, and he abruptly looked more interested in Akas than he had previously, like a pet who’d done a fascinating trick.

Feeling stupid, because _of course_ Rajpal hadn’t expected Akas to say that and now viewed him like something entertaining to poke at and observe, he sat forward in his chair and hastened to explain.  “I mean—cautious, wary, informed.  I would think it would be important to be those things if your charge’s aura started darkening, but not _afraid._   I can’t imagine ever being afraid of my charge, no matter what.  And I just thought, you know, there’s no telling what might happen.  Even if I’m a good guardian, my charge might still end up with a little smoke in their aura at some point; it’s almost expected in some cultures.  So, I felt it best to go in prepared rather than afraid.”  And, oh.  Oh, Shiva help him, that was way too raw, way too close to the truth that had almost gotten him booted out of the academy in his first year, before he’d learned to lock that shit down.

His wings twitched nervously behind him, simultaneously expressing the horror he could feel slowly twisting his features into a rictus of pained mortification.  He wondered if he’d already fucked this up two weeks out of the academy and wings still molting, not even permanently feathered.  All he’d ever wanted from the time he’d reached awareness was to be assigned a charge, to wrap himself around an aura and cradle it protectively all through a long, happy mortal life, until he could escort the soul—with an aura as translucent as glass—to the heavens.  All he’d ever dreamed of was to have that responsibility, that connection; it was a craving he didn’t think could be satisfied in any other way.  The thought of losing it now, when he was on the precipice, but still before ever having it, was the most heartbreaking thing he could fathom.

Doing nothing to soothe Akas’ frayed nerves, Rajpal’s expression remained flat, almost uninterested, but there was an edge to his tone that couldn’t quite be quantified when he responded.  “I agree.”

Akas was speaking to defend himself further before Rajpal’s words even registered.  “I—oh.”  He cut himself off, face screwing up in confusion.  “Good?” he ventured cautiously.  He barely dared to hope he hadn’t destroyed this irreparably.

Rajpal shook his head, looking both pained and reluctantly charmed by Akas’ awkwardness.  “What do you think it takes to be a good guardian?”

Relaxing slightly, Akas sat back in his chair.  _This_ he could do.  The thing he’d never dared to tell his instructors was he studied so much because he had to know exactly what to say to fake it perfectly, to respond like a _normal_ guardian would.  His commitment had paid off; he could sound exactly like he should—dedicated but disinterested—for easy questions like this.  “Well, our oath is _Courage, Foresight, and Compassion,_ so…”  His planned speech died a messy death on his tongue, in the form of a choked, gurgling noise, when he saw Rajpal’s expression.

Curtly, Rajpal shook his head again, much less unwilling amusement in the gesture this time around.  “I’m not asking about what the books say it takes, I want to know what you, Akas, think it takes to be successful.”

Akas set his jaw; he could feel the muscle shift beneath his skin with the action.  This was what he’d been trying to avoid, but Rajpal had asked him directly, so he couldn’t sidestep or equivocate any longer.  And he had to admit he was kind of desperate to spell this out and have someone _get it._   Still, he offered a slightly watered-down answer out of some half-assed attempt at self-preservation.  “Knowledge.  The more you know about your charge, the more likely you are to keep their aura clean.”

“Mmm.”  Rajpal tipped his head to the side in acknowledgement.  “A good point.  What else?”

Mollified by the acceptance of his first answer, Akas tapped his index finger against his knee while he tried to fit the right word to his more invested response.  “Determination.”  Not quite the whole truth, but close enough that most guardians would look askance at him and begin edging away.

Rajpal dipped his head in a slight nod.  “I feel very certain that would help, yes.  But might I caution you that perspective might be something you find even more useful?”

Startled, Akas frowned.  “Perspective?”  He was having trouble following Rajpal’s line of thought since he’d been sitting there composing responses to the myriad chastising responses he’d anticipated to his last comment.

Rajpal raised an eyebrow, like it should be obvious.  “Knowing your charge inside and out, and being determined not to let them Fade, both seem like really good ways of getting too close.”

Everything inside Akas went cold and he answered in a flat, wary tone.  “You read my essay.”  Time felt like it slowed down and Akas’ heartbeat was loud in his own ears, the only thing he could hear.

Rajpal’s knowing smirk made a reappearance.  “I did.”

Fighting back his anger, Akas clenched both hands into fists.  Impulsive, cutting words piled up on his tongue and pressed against the back of his teeth with their eagerness to escape; he bit the inside of his cheek to corral them.  He couldn’t stop his wings from curling forward defensively though, the instinct to hide himself from scrutiny stronger than even his anger.  “And you asked me here to tell me that I’m too risky to be put onto the list for assignments.” 

“ _Empathy—of no use to a guardian,”_ was what had been scrawled across the essay he’d written in his first year at the academy, right next to the large red “F _,”_ and Akas had been able to virtually _hear_ the sneer in his instructor’s words as he’d read the comments scribbled in the margins throughout.  He’d always known he’d been an unusual guardian, but it hadn’t ever felt so real and achingly tactile until that moment.

Rajpal’s smirk deepened and his eyes held a well of amusement.  “Actually, I’m here to tell you that I think you’re worth taking a risk on.”  He grabbed a folder from the top of his desk.  “And so is your assignment.”

Everything stopped for one surreal moment, Akas not even daring to breathe, and then it popped like a bubble.  The urge to reach out and snatch the folder from Rajpal—before he revealed this was a joke, or if it were real, decided to take it back—welled up, hot and urgent.  Akas twitched in his seat with the effort of restraining himself, his downy-soft first feathers made a rustling noise that flummoxed him a little.  “Already?”  He didn’t even try to disguise the eagerness in his voice.

Calmly, Rajpal made a show of flipping open the folder and scanning the contents inside like he didn’t already know what was in the file.  “If you accept him.”

Aghast, Akas gave Rajpal a questioning look.  “Why wouldn’t I?”  He hoped the “who would be that stupid?” he intended as an undertone shone through.  He hoped the “I don’t even know anything about this charge and I’m already stupidly invested in them,” he really felt didn’t though.

For the first time in the course of this meeting, Rajpal looked unsure, his features twisting into an expression that made him look like he was trying to tread lightly, and it was an interesting look for a guardian who clearly didn’t often concern himself with handling things delicately.  “This assignment is going to work a little differently than usual.”  He paused to scratch at his stubbled cheek absently before continuing.  “For one, it’s not mandatory, and secondly, I chose you specifically for this charge.”

Akas sucked in a breath.  He didn’t know how to respond to that at all, so he didn’t.  He just sat and concentrated on not letting his heart beat out of his own chest.  It felt like something wild and captive, caged beneath his ribs and ready to escape with the slightest provocation.  He couldn’t bear to acknowledge the feeling of _rightness_ the idea of being selected specifically for a charge gave him—not yet.  He’d analyze that hot, fragile thread of emotion running through his chest—thin enough to snap should he breathe too hard or let it come near his savage heart—when he was alone in his bed tonight.

Rajpal didn’t seem to be bothered by Akas’ lack of response, continuing in a careful tone.  “This charge, a boy, has already been tainted.  There’s a streak in his aura, dark—black, really—but we think he can be saved.”

Akas ignored the way everything in him cried out “mine!”and met that assertion with a skeptical look.  “Why?”  He knew he already wanted this charge, wanted him desperately, but he was aware that he should have never even gotten the chance to have him—and Kali’s tits, did that thought hurt.  Souls with tainted auras were rejected by the council outright, they never even got a guardian and a fighting chance to make it to the heavens with a clear aura.

Understanding written all over his face, Rajpal smiled wryly.  “His father was the same way, and so we never assigned him a guardian, per tradition.  But his aura never really changed, never went completely black.  It’s too late for the father, but if the son is the same way, with your skill and your particular brand of _fearlessness_ ,” he said that like “fearlessness” was not at all the word he wanted to use there, “we think you might be able to clean his aura in time.”  Rajpal shrugged.  “Plus he’s Catholic.”  It was a running joke among the guardians that though Catholics had almost everything about the afterlife wrong, including the idea that Confession would clear your aura, they were easier charges because it wasn’t the confession that scrubbed the smoke from their auras, but the specific brand of patented guilt.  A joke, but rooted in something like the truth.

It was a lot of information to take in, and excitement was still thrumming through Akas’ body, making his thoughts like colorful butterflies flitting from place to place and impossible to catch.  He rubbed the palm of his hands over his thighs, thinking.  “The Council is behind this?”

Rajpal snorted derisively.  “Uh.  Not entirely.”

Akas frowned.  Then how was he going to get permission to travel to the Earthly Realm and protect his charge?

There was a quick flash of emotion across Rajpal’s face, something devious and bright, before he schooled his expression.  “I may not have given them _all_ of the facts when I presented this assignment for approval.”

That piece of information left Akas at a loss for words.  “Oh,” was the only thing he could manage.  Deception hadn’t even occurred to him, but he found himself surprisingly fine with the idea.

Rajpal gave him a long look, measuring, and then stood to walk around his desk.  He perched his hip on the front edge and sat partially atop the surface.  The file hung from his limp hand when he crossed both his forearms over the thigh he hitched up.  “I think you can do this Akas, and I’m ready to support you in your efforts.”  He held the file out to Akas.

Overcome with emotion, Akas swallowed thickly.  “Thank you, sir.”  He reached out to take the file from Rajpal with mostly steady hands.  Or, he pretended they were mostly steady.  He couldn’t fall apart in relief and sheer elation in the middle of Rajpal’s office, he had to at least wait until he made it back to his quarters.

Tensing his fingers, Rajpal held tightly to the file.  He met Akas’ look of surprise with a steely stare.  “I need to know one thing first.”

Eagerly, Akas nodded.  “What is it?”  He didn’t say “I’ll tell you anything you want to hear,” but he was pretty sure Rajpal heard it anyway.

Rajpal’s expression somehow hardened even more.  “When you took your oath before the Council, when you recited the Rules of the Guard, did you mean it?  Or did you receive your wings on the backs of lies and half-truths?”

Akas mustered all of the seriousness he had within himself and squared his shoulders.  “I absolutely meant my intention to honor those promises at all times.”  He took a breath and let his own voice find a little steel to thread into his tone, needing to be sure Rajpal wouldn’t doubt him on this, more than willing to meet this challenge.  “But what I mean more is my promise not to fail my charge, not to fail _this boy_ when I know almost anyone else faced with this assignment would have given up on him already.”  He wanted to add something about how he promised he’d never leave this boy, even if his aura darkened to the shade of ink and Akas was no longer any good to him, he wouldn’t leave him even as he Faded into nothingness even if the experience hollowed Akas out inside.  But that would be too much to tell Rajpal; certainly it felt like too much to even be feeling right now. 

Apparently appeased, Rajpal smiled and let go of the file.  “Good.”  He stood up and headed back to his seat, waving a hand at Akas dismissively.  “Now get out of my office.  Your optimism is nauseating.”

Akas clutched the file to his chest, too shocked to even open it yet, too disbelieving to do anything that might shatter the illusion if this was all a dream.  “Thank you, Sir.”  He chose to ignore entirely the way the words were mostly awed and a little breathless, they conveyed his gratitude well enough anyway.  He stood up and fumbled his way to the door; his knees didn’t seem to want to support him steadily for some reason.  Pausing with his hand on the doorknob, he turned back to Rajpal.  “I’ll—I promise—you won’t—”  His brain also didn’t seem to be interested in forming coherent thoughts.

Rajpal growled.  “Seriously, get out.  Before I decide I’m wrong about you.”  There wasn’t nearly enough genuine annoyance in his tone for his words to be taken entirely at face value.

Giddy, Akas laughed and exited the office hurriedly.  The file was thick; he had a lot of reading to do.  The thought made him feel like a true guardian for the first time in a way even the unfamiliar weight of his wings couldn’t prompt.


End file.
